


Oopsie Daisy

by daisyhaechan



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Engagement Rings, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Slice of Life, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:14:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22672372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisyhaechan/pseuds/daisyhaechan
Summary: Yuta was already opening the Gmail app. He typed “ticket” into the search bar, hoping it would yield results. It didn't. Maybe “confirmation”?Confirmation gave him two results.The first had the subject line “ORDER CONFIRMATION 00918”. Yuta’s eyes flickered over this, but stuck on the sender. Benchmarkengagementrings.comEngagement rings. Engagement rings?
Relationships: Mark Lee/Nakamoto Yuta
Comments: 24
Kudos: 305





	Oopsie Daisy

**Author's Note:**

> Listen this is inspired by that reddit post and I wanted to write something where plot didn't matter for once so this happened. I think it's cute :)

The flight was just two hours, from Seattle to San Francisco, but it was bound to be stressful for someone who’d never been on a plane before. Or an airport. Yuta understood this, and had done his best to make it as easy as possible for Mark. He got first class tickets, which let them board early, since his parents were paying for it. Just because they were a biomed grad student and a barista/intern didn't mean they couldn’t have a taste of luxury when it happened to come their way. Yuta’s parents probably wouldn’t notice the dent, anyway. And he’d bought the tickets way in advance, both to soothe Mark’s anxiety and because they were cheaper that way.  
The problem was: now they couldn’t find the flight details.

“I swear…” Yuta was muttering to himself, rubbing the ends of his hair together with his thumb and forefinger while he typed with the other hand. “I’m sure they send the tickets to your email. There’s like, a barcode thing they can scan on your phone. Did I misspell my email or something?”

He was scrolling through his inbox, squinting carefully at each subject line as he went. Mark watched silently, chin resting on Yuta’s shoulder. It was digging into the bone, but he seemed comfortable, and Yuta didn't want to disturb him. He was wearing his reading glasses, and his hair was still damp from the shower. It smelled vaguely like almond shampoo.

They’d just finished packing their suitcases for the next morning, and then Yuta had sat down on the couch with his computer to find that email— the last detail on his mind— and it was nowhere to be found. Mark seemed weirdly unconcerned.

It was so stupid that he’d gone to all this trouble to make the flight stress-free, and still this was happening the day before they had to leave. Travel was impossible. Yuta said as much, and Mark smiled at him.

“It’s fine. I’m sure they can help us at the… airport front desk, or whatever.”

Yuta groaned. “But I messed it up. This was supposed to be easy.”

“I told you, Yuta, it’s fine. We’ll just get to the airport early.”

Yuta refused to give up. “Give me your phone.”

Mark pulled his chin away from Yuta’s shoulder. He knew better than to argue with Yuta when he got a bee in his bonnet, so he retrieved his phone from the coffee table and plopped it into Yuta’s lap unceremoniously. “Okay,” he said, “but don’t get too worked up about it. We have time in the morning.”

Yuta was already opening the Gmail app. He typed “ticket” into the search bar, hoping it would yield results. It didn't. Maybe “confirmation”?

Confirmation gave him two results.

The first had the subject line “ORDER CONFIRMATION 00918”. Yuta’s eyes flickered over this, but stuck on the sender.

Benchmarkengagementrings.com

Engagement rings. Engagement rings?

Yuta’s finger halted. His breath stalled in his throat, suddenly trapped. He could feel the blood rushing into his head. Beside him, he was vaguely aware of Mark tensing. Neither of them said anything. After a moment, Yuta clicked on the second email, which said “Delta flight confirmation details”.

“There,” he said. His voice sounded raspy. “No need to go in early. I’ll just forward this to my email so we don’t lose it.”

He did so. Mark cleared his throat and stood from the couch, picking up both of their wine glasses in his hands. “Need any more?” he asked, taking one last sip from his own glass.

It took a minute for Yuta to process the question. “Oh, no, thank you.”

Mark trotted off to the half of the room that counted as the kitchen to put the glasses in the dishwasher. When he returned, Yuta’s breath had finally come back to him.

They’d talked about getting married before, so it wasn’t like this was out of the blue. But they hadn’t discussed details— when, for instance. That email had been sent a month ago. The engagement ring was definitely here, maybe even in the apartment. And Yuta didn't know what to do with himself.

He was giggling. Mark seemed relieved at the sight. Yuta could feel that his cheeks were warm, like he was a schoolgirl in a cartoon with a crush. Yuta was trying to stop his laughter, but it was bubbling out of him like he was a shaken-up bottle of champagne.

“Is it—” Yuta started, but had to stop due to his giggles. Mark started laughing at him, too. They stood across the room from each other, Mark’s bare feet half on the tile of the kitchen and half on the creaky wood floor. The laughter filled the space between them. Yuta made himself take a breath. “Is it here?”

This made Mark double over with laughter. When he had finished, he walked back over to the couch and plopped down next to Yuta, who scooted to make room and turned to face him. “Like, is it in the house?” Yuta asked.

“I’m not telling you,” Mark said, still grinning.

Yuta started cackling again, throwing his head back like Mark had told the funniest joke he’d ever heard. “Why are we laughing?” Mark said.

“I don’t know,” Yuta replied.

“But you do know,” Mark countered. And Yuta nodded at him, biting his lip to curb his smile.

“What if— Okay.” Yuta stood from the couch, trying to be serious. “Can we play hot and cold? Like I wander around and if I get close you say, ‘Warmer’?”

Mark’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“That’s not how— Stop laughing at me!”

“Okay,” Yuta said.

“Thank you,” Mark breathed.

Yuta gasped suddenly. “Is it in your suitcase?”

“Yuta!”

Yuta began to run to their room to find Mark’s suitcase, but his boyfriend’s arms wrapped around his middle before he could get there. Mark was shorter than him, but stronger. Yuta let himself be half-carried back to the couch, heels dragging on the floor. Once Mark had him by the couch, he let him go. Yuta sunk to the floor, back resting against the couch.

“It’s totally in your suitcase,” Yuta muttered triumphantly.

Mark sighed. “I told you I have a— let me do things!”

“Aw, are you gonna ask my dad for permission? Oh my god, Mark!”

Yuta reached out his hands to be pulled up, and Mark obliged easily. Once they were eye level, Yuta planted a chaste kiss on his lips, which tasted of Burt’s Bees chapstick. Mark sighed again, swinging their hands between them, still interlocked. “Promise me you won’t snoop in my suitcase,” he said.

Yuta smiled. “I was just teasing you. I promise.”

“Let’s go to bed. I already set an alarm for 7:30 tomorrow.”

Yuta let his mouth drop open. “You were supposed to let me do everything! That includes the alarm. I was trying not to stress you out!”

Mark rolled his eyes. “You’re more stressed out than me over this trip, and we’re visiting your parents,” he said.

“That's because I was taking all the stress from you,” Yuta said, pouting. "Like a leech."

“My hero,” Mark sang, and led him into their bedroom.

They fell asleep back to back, the distant traffic outside providing a background of white noise and the warmth from their shared body heat rendering the duvet unnecessary. Yuta closed his eyes with a smile on his face, and felt his heartbeat slow with every deep breath Mark took in his sleep.


End file.
